Sunday, 26 February 2017

Walking home one night down a dark alley as you do – I wasconfronted by a woman wearing a mask over her mouth.

She stared at me and asked me in a slithery voice “Am I pretty?”

Realising she was that Japanese demon girl that I had read about on (of all things) a Facebook post, I said “I know who you are”.

She stared at me vacantly and asked me again “Am I pretty?” taking a step closer.

“I get it” I answered, “you ask me if I think you’re pretty and if I disagree - you disembowel me or something but if I agree you take off your mask and you show me your Glasgow smile and ask me again and no matter what I say you end up killing me”. I said all of this very carefully to make sure I didn’t say “yes” or “no” in case the trigger to keep playing the twisted game was based on simple linguistics.

Her eyes narrowed and she lowered her head abit so she was standing somewhat hunched and suddenly her eyes snapped to meet mine “you dare question me?” this time her voice had a little more dagger to it.

I took my chance to stall. “Ah so you do speak! So let me ask you this: you were walking down a dark alley and someone cut you from ear to ear, right?”

Confusion filled her dark eyes for a moment and then flickered back to complete darkness “yesssss” she hissed more than replied much closer than before

Trying not to flinch at the invasion of personal space, I soldiered on "Ok. . . was it a stranger or did you know the person who did this to you?"

“What?” she asked in an uncharacteristically hoarse voice.

I looked around to see if there was anyone around to help – but then I doubted whether anyone would stop to talk to an obvious creature of evil if they had the choice. I continued my ramble. “Like was what happened to you a random act of violence or was this someone trying to silence you or seek vengeance or something?”

Her head cocked to one side unnaturally “. . . random” she replied.

"Uh huh. so now you go around killing people in the same way you died – but you must have killed thousands in your time. . . " She moved her head back and forth presumably in a nod "Let me ask you a second question: what do you get out of it?"

“The kiiiilllll” she answered with no hesitation.

I swallowed a yelp "I . . . uh see – but is that the girl that was killed talking or the demon that has possessed you talking?"

“Both” she hissed.

"So let me ask you one last thing – if I never give you an answer to your question – are you bound to me until I do or do you just move on to your next victim?"

Her eyes and face softened and a single tear rolled down her face.

For a second she looked like a young girl. . .

Any way – that’s why mommy has a 100 year old demon following her wherever she goes. Goodnight sport *KISS